I'm fine, thanks for asking. It just strikes me as weird, how everything and everyone you love can unravel so quickly towards the end of your life. I was taking care of Hag-Cat for Bill and Patsy, two good old family friends, they never actually married but had been together for ~40 years or more, and functioned almost as an Uncle and Aunt. They were always eccentric but brilliant, the weird couple that had a cool house we would always go over to for their New Year's Day Party. Regardless, Bill went to the hospital a couple months ago, he had a fall, but he was also diabetic (but not fat), and an alcoholic. Patsy had to get her hip replaced about a month ago, so they would both be in the hospital for awhile. So I ended up helping Patsy with a few chores, and offered to take the Hag-Cat. Hag cat wasn't exactly healthy, she was old and old special kidney diet food. But their once eccentrically interesting house had turned into that of a hoarders. It was odd seeing that, having been there so many times. I was probably there ever New Years Day until I was 16, and for many other random dinner parties and occasions. There New Years day party was kind of infamous around the neighborhood, always well attended, basically an institution. They always served black-eyed peas, which Patsy cooked, and Bill insisted were good luck. It was like walking into a the ruins of a memory of your childhood. Just way too much shit everywhere, and Patsy couldn't bring herself to throw away a goddamn thing. But, I helped her clear a few things out of the way, and took the old Hag-Cat for a month. Yesterday morning, I get the text, from my mother, Bill had died in the hospital. Yesterday morning, Hag-Cat was acting a little lethargic. Didn't think much of it at the time, she was an old cat after all. She just wasn't as loud as she usually was. The bitch really did like to scream and yowl a lot when she was 'healthy'. My mom texts me again, Patsy is getting out of the hospital tomorrow, and wants Hag-Cat back. Text mom back, telling her Hag-Cat is lethargic, I think it might be best if I took Hag-Cat to the vet tomorrow. Go to work. Work. Come back home. Hag-Cat meows. Hag-Cat doesn't normally meow. Hag-Cat is only supposed to yowl like she is pissed off at you. She is supposed to be a demanding cranky bitch, that is part of her charm. She is sitting on the floor. She seems really weak, can occasionally try to walk, but she is so weak, she just falls down after a few steps. I bring her her water bowl, and she laps it up like there is no tomorrow. And I do not know what to do. This is an old cat, a really old cat, really very clearly on her way out. If I take her to the emergency vet, I am pretty sure they will just suggest she gets put down. Unsure what to do. Take Hag-Cat, put her in my bed, put her water bowl on my window-sill and try to get her to drink periodically. Watch dumb election coverage and go to sleep next to her. Wake up this morning next to dead cat. Call Patsy. >Oh, I am so glad you called me Theo. Your mother told me that Hag-Cat was acting lethargic, and I am so excited to have her back. I forgot to tell you, but since she has bad kidneys, she does occasionally need subcutaneous fluids, if you get her back to me, I can help her Tell her cat is dead. Shit kind of choked me up. She was so nice and polite about her cat dying, like she always was, right after her life partner died. It just sucks she had to go through so much misery all at once, ya know? Regardless, thanks for listening.